-done from scratch in OC4.06 (with a few details here and there in Painter and PS)
i'm not familiar with drawing dragons, and i spent a looong time on this one. started out as 2000X2000 pixels, but i downsized it quite a lot. (say, 50%) gah, preview image is way too small..


In Which Four Travelers Take A Wrong Turn
“I still think we’re going the wrong way. Remember what that stereotypical, cackling old witch said?”
“Oh, please shut up. Your gullibility in the matter only makes this situation even more of a cliché. Now give me my flask.”
The two middle-aged wizards continued their squabbling while a rather dim young knight and a taciturn desert alchemist led the group through the woods. The trees were getting taller and the light was growing dimmer.
“We’ve been walking through this wood since scarcely an hour before noon! We should be traveling on the high road by now,” whined Bernard, the wizard with gullibility issues.
“I’ve told you time and again that I have a keen sense of location. I know we’re. headed in the right direction. You must remember that the easy way isn’t always the right way,” chided Vladimir, the wizard with the drinking problem. To underline this fact, he hiccupped with gusto.
Bernard rolled his eyes and then promptly walked into the heavily armored back of Sir Albert, the dim knight. The raucous clanking echoed off the canopy of trees.
“What now?” Bernard grumbled.
The alchemist stood several yards ahead of the group, and he was pointing to a rather inconspicuous entrance of a cave.
“We go there!” He said in a loud whisper. It was the longest string of words he’d uttered all day.
Bernard opened his mouth to complain but Vladimir clamped him hard on the shoulder.
“I trust him. Those eastern desert folk, they know their directions better than anyone. When you live in an endless sea of sand, you have to.”
Bernard sighed and the party moved forward to follow the alchemist.
The entrance was just large enough for the four to pass through all at once. The earth was dry and loose, but gradually hardened into solid stone the further in they walked. The cave walls were surprisingly dry, but the sound of water could be heard from somewhere.
Suddenly the air grew cooler and the cave walls pulled away. Vladimir murmured a few words and a dancing ball of light glowed in his hands.
“Whoaaaaaaa,” said Sir Albert.
“It looks like an underground spring! Quite large. The water eroded all of this stone,” said Bernard, the powers of speech not quite beyond him. “But it’s dark up ahead. Vlad, my good friend, would you be so kind as to see how far this stone path goes? We’re surrounded by water on both sides, but we don’t want to risk walking off a cliff.”
Vladimir sniffed; but, always eager to show off his voluntary illumination skills, strode on ahead anyway.
There was a cry, then a thud.
“Beelzebub’s balls!” Vladimir screeched from somewhere below.
“What now?” Bernard yelled.
“It’s a drop! Don’t go any farther!”
The trio stayed where they were while Vladimir checked himself for broken bones and internal hemorrhaging. Then he gingerly stood up, shook out his robes, and made a new ball of light. He lifted it over his head, then slowly removed his hands. The orb remained where it was, and followed Vladimir as he walked. The path was a long one, and roughly fifteen feet wide. He had no idea how deep the surrounding water was, but had no desire to find out.
“Well?” Bernard called out, now sounding very far away.
“Just a moment!” Vladimir snapped back.
The light bobbing over his head was still too dim. He noticed that the path narrowed a bit…then ended. They had taken a wrong turn.
Vladimir took the ball of light out of the air and placed it so it was floating in front of him. As he took his hands away, the ball grew larger.
A low, rumbling snort echoed off the cavern walls.
There was a treacherous-looking wall of rock several yards beyond the path’s end, and something large and enveloped in shadows sitting on top of it. Something very large.
A massive horned head plunged out of the darkness, followed by a serpentine neck. Its amber eyes fixed on the wizard standing below.
Bernard gawked, for once at a loss for words.
Sir Albert convulsed a little, which either meant he’d soiled his armor or gotten struck by the proverbial falling anvil; in this case the anvil of courage. Or stupidity, for all you realists out there.
With a ridiculous war-cry, Sir Albert brandished his sword and shield, then charged forward, clanking as he went. Before anyone could stop him, he leaped valiantly off the drop Vladimir had fallen from. There was an amusingly percussive crash, and then he was off again, shouting all the while.
“My god. The boy is insane!” Bernard wailed, his eyes fixed on the dragon, which seemed content to sit and mull over whether or not a tiny wizard and his companions were worth its trouble.